


The Red Linen Scarf, August 12, 1970

by MissAtomicBomb77



Series: For the Greater Good, Let's Do the News [9]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAtomicBomb77/pseuds/MissAtomicBomb77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's about trust, Lee. It's effectively saying that you are willing to let someone else take complete responsibility and care of you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

August 12, 1970  
8:55pm  
Charlie and Lee’s Apartment  
Phnom Penh, Cambodia

His skepticism is obvious on his face as he sits at the foot of the bed, legs crossed, looking at her, on her knees in front of him. "Are you sure about this?"

Lee thrusts her hands wrists together in his face. "I want to know what it's like."

"It's not about just being tied up," Charlie says patiently, trying to look around her hands that are thrust in his face. "It's about trust, Lee. It's effectively saying that you are willing to let someone else take complete responsibility and care of you."

She shakes her hands in front of him again. "Charlie, you do that already. I know this is an extension of trust. Besides, you let me do it to you that one time."

"Nut-uh. That was completely different and you know it. That was you taking advantage of a situation."

"And you still got out of it!" She whined.

"Put your hands down, Lee. If you really want to do this, we need to talk about a few things, okay?"

She sighs and relents. "Talk about what, Charlie?"

He shrugs. "Safety, being safe, meaning no drinking when we do this. Clear heads for two reasons: so you can communicate clearly if something isn't right and so you can remember enjoying yourself, okay?"

She blinks at him because this wasn't exactly what she was expecting to hear. Yet at the same time, he wasn't dismissing her out of hand. "Okay," Lee says.

"Second, practice. Give me your scarf."

Now she smiles and scrambles off the bed for the vulgar red linen scarf she had bought from the market a few days ago. When she's back on the bed, he motions her to sit in front of him. She does, cross legged facing him, her knees just touching his.

"Now," he says simply "Hold your hands out like you were before."

She does so eagerly, watching him intently as he tugs on the scarf and then slips it between her wrists.

"There's two ways that someone would most likely bind your wrists. This is a figure eight. Whenever anyone does this, you want to give yourself some space between your wrists like this." He splits her wrists apart a little, roughly a fingers worth of space. "The greater the space, the easier it is to escape. Now if someone is doing this for - less than noble purposes, they're going know this trick, but do your best anyway. With me, this much space at minimum, okay." Again, he shows her and she nods. He takes care and slowly binds her, wrapping the cloth between in the figure eight pattern he mentioned. He doesn't use the entire length, but enough and ties it off with a simple knot. "Now get out." He says. Charlie throws himself over the edge of the bed. "I'm getting a glass of orange juice, you want some?"

"Wait, what? What do you mean get out?" She says, tugging at her arms.

He lets out a small laugh while in the kitchen. "Your hands are the key to getting out if you ever find yourself in any predicament. I mean I could trip on one of your idiot shoes and knock myself on the head. Then where would you be? Just think about it for a second, huh?" Charlie turns back into the kitchen, fetches a glass, sets it on the table, goes to the modest fridge, pulls out the carafe, and fills the glass. He returns the orange juice to the fridge. When he turns back for the glass, it's gone.

Lee is standing there, hands free, the red scarf still wrapped around her left arm, drinking his orange juice.

"Well, okay then," Charlie says, waiting for her to finish his drink.

She smiles devilishly at him and sets the glass down.

"Well, it looks like you need another little twist. Turn around."

Lee's eyes widen for a second, but she's still smiling. He undoes the scarf and this time, he ties her hands behind her back, letting the scarf make an "O" pattern around her wrists, not very different from a few moments ago. "Now I will never do this, but you really don't want to be tied here," he grabs her elbows and forces them together. "Notice how it forces your chest out and really limits your mobility in the back? You can escape from this, but I'm going to tell you now, you might twist or tear something."

She nods, "Got it."

Charlie let's go of her arms. "Good. You're flexible. Get your arms in front of you and do your party trick again, while I get some orange juice, again."

Her first thought is to twist her arms free, but recognizes it's not as easy now. Get my arms in front, she thinks. She hears Charlie getting his drink when it dawns on her, and she sits on the edge of the bed now, and opens her arms as best as she can, sits between then and basically pulls her body though so that her arms are now in front of her and she's able to easily work herself free.

He's leaning on the doorframe now. "I think we can play a little. If you want," he says slyly. "Slow and simple tonight for you, okay?"

She smiles her thousand watt smile at him.

Charlie takes his shirt off and folds it over one of the dining chairs and makes his way to the foot of the bed. "Come here, my Lovely Leona."

She hops up from the bed right away and stands in front of him. He takes great care to unbutton her pale blue blouse and places it over the chair with his own. He's running a little on auto pilot and he's very insistent on watching her eyes, reading her, looking for and receiving confirmation that everything he was doing was alright. He caresses her shoulders gently and slips her bra straps off as he works his hands down her arms. Charlie reaches behind her and undoes the bra from behind. He tugs it off gently, and adds it to the collection of clothing on the chair.

"Scarf," he says simply, and she reaches over the bed for it. Charlie fusses with it for a moment before he guides her hands in front of her and she's remembered what to do. Close together but not so close. He uses more of the scarf this time as he uses the figure eight pattern and uses a more complex knot to keep it in place. When he's done, he then gently tugs her underwear down and she steps out of them. "Lay down on the bed, on your stomach, please."

She does so as he adds the underwear to the rest of the clothes. He then returns to the kitchen for a moment, and she's slightly perplexed. "Charlie?"

"I'll be there in a second, promise."

She lays on the bed, on her stomach, her hands over her head. She's a touch anxious but is calm when Charlie sits on the bed, and what she is unable to see was him leaving a small bowl at the foot of the bed. "Grab the headboard, like... Yes," once she has ahold of the bars, he grabs her hips and gives her a tug forcing her legs open and making sure that her apex was firm against his knee. Once he was satisfied, he went to work on massaging her back, taking special care with her lower back. She's a sucker for a good back massage and he knows it. He's also adding a little bit of pressure forcing her hips against his knee every few moments. Soon enough, she's responding on her own accord, digging against his knee without his guidance. He leans over her now and asks her if she's alright.

She nods, her eyes are screwed shut and her breathing is escalated. Charlie then moves both of his knees between her now, but pulls away. He hears her whimper slightly, but he knows she'll be okay in a moment. He reaches for the bowl he brought to bed, a few ice cubes waiting for his use. With his right hand, he replaces his knee with a pair his long fingers, slowly pressing into her and he's pleased to discover that her body anticipated his arrival. With his other hand, he takes an ice cube and holds it gently at the base of her neck. Her shock is exactly what he hoped for as she bucks her hips up, allowing his fingers to surge deeper and letting his thumb flicker over her clit.

She lets out a noise somewhere between a scream and a growl, and that makes him smile. He wants to please her, it's all he ever wants and hopeful that she understands that. He's careful with his movements within her, because it seems like they are always trying something new. Which he knows and perhaps she knows subconsciously makes her wound up tighter and easier to please than giving a small child candy. Soon enough as he drags the ice cube up and down the length of her back, as trails of water peel away, as her grip on the bars of the headboard go from tightly gripping to using her weight to push back on his hand, her muscles betray her and pulse around his fingers.

He loses the ice cube at this point and slips his arm underneath her breasts, tips his head to her ears and whispers how she's his "Lovely Leona.” Only when they are intimate, he uses her given name. She begins to shake and a soft scream escapes her lips. Her body has always been surprisingly violent to his ministrations, and he's certain she barely remembers to breathe. These tremors just wrack her body like no one he's ever seen before. If he didn't know her any better, he would be afraid that she was having a seizure or something.

When he's certain the storm within her has passed, he pulls out of her and he's rewarded with a whimper. Next he goes to free her hands as quickly as possible. She's limp, as she often is after such an excursion, and he turns her now to cup her face cover it in soft kisses. "Are you alright?" He asks searching her face, her eyes closed. She nods into his hand and smiles.

This, she decides, she likes. All of the pleasure, none of the work and she looks forward to doing it again.


	2. Chapter 2

She's lost track of time, not a usual thing for her. She's actually fairly bad at keeping track of it. Lee had been lying in bed for a while, still on her stomach, naked, curling her toes now, and starting to wiggle on the bed slightly. She was half hoping Charlie, also known as Captain Considerate, would notice and maybe be enticed enough to come back, but that was not the case, he was lost in his own world.

In her moments of dosing, he'd been in the bathroom for a bit, no doubt washing up and splashing a little water on his face. He did this quite often, actually, just splashing a bit of water on his face. It bordered on being habitual and necessary. It was one of those things she had come to notice about him. That she secretly loved about him.

The other thing that she noticed was this streak of... self-denial? She may have been a journalist, but she always had a hard time finding the right combination of words to describe the human condition, especially with Charlie, especially when it came to the sex. He always holds her high above even though she never once asked him to. She imagines that few people have the kind of relationship they have. Lee is almost certain he derives more pleasure giving her pleasure than anything else. He never once has asked anything of her, ever. It dawns on her that she's the instigator and she almost think he prefers that.

She's not sure what that says about him or if that's a reflection of her. Her previous experience was very limited and there was none of the talking or conversation. That, she thinks, is a reflection of which she was with more and the act less. Charlie, he's a model of self-restraint in everything he does. Nothing is done to excess or extreme... even this. She's never asked him if he was alright, if he was satisfied or if he needed anything from her. Part of her burns red, ashamed that she's never done that, but the rational part of her knows that he probably wouldn't have answered her.

Charlie has two modes, she's discovered, thinking and talking. While they are not mutually exclusive, they are both all consuming. She wonders if he knows how to let go. Then she remembers: that's what she's for. 

He's at their modest table, struggling with his typewriter. The beast desperately needed service, but he's been hesitant to part with it until he was finished with his latest feature. She understands this it's the same way with her typewriter. In fact, ranking things in order of importance it would be Charlie, identification and typewriter. She understands the unconditional love for the machine. However it was time to take care of the most important thing on her list.

She finds the red scarf and wraps it around her neck, once, simple, lose. She slips out of bed and finds herself at his side now. Because he's been working, it does take him a full minute to realize she's there; she understands, she doesn't mind. "Leona."

"Charlie," she responds. She licks her lips. "Come here." She holds her hand out to lead him away from the table. She can't read his face. It's somewhere between lost and confused. At least he's not completely bewildered, she thinks. He stands and she leads him to the edge of the bed. She doesn't look at him as she undoes his slacks and works them free. "What are you afraid of?" It's not quite how she wanted to phrase the question, but she's decided that she needs to know now.

His head is dipped now, watching her work. He makes it easy for her and steps out of the slacks and watches her collect them from the floor to drape them over the edge of the bed. His voice is low, probably a little heavier that he meant it to be. "What do you mean?"

"Are you afraid you're going to hurt me?" She says simply, looking up at him now as he closes his eyes and turns a little bit away.

"No. Yes. Maybe," he says truthfully. She's never asked him anything quite like this before in such a vulnerable setting and he is suddenly nervous. 

"Hurt me physically or emotionally?" She asks. Her hand has found its way to his heart, and is resting softly on his chest.

"Both. Why are you...?” He starts to respond it her other hand covers his mouth, just enough to stop his question. 

She stares at him now and he's caught her glance. She wants to ask if maybe he hurt somebody, but thinks better of it. He deserves to have his secrets as she does hers. It makes a certain amount of sense to her, but she will not assume. "What do you want? Tell me what you want."

"I have everything I could ever..." He's trying to search her face to see where's she's going with this. 

"That's not what I mean and I think you know it. You're afraid to tell me what you want Charlie and yet you constantly and consistently ask me about what I like or don't, if everything is alright. Let me try for you, please." She doesn't know why she does it, but she takes the scarf from around her neck and hooks it over his, the ends uneven dangling down his chest.

He looks away from her now, his hair hanging over his eyes and jerks his head once, simply, in the negative.

She’s not surprised in the least. Leona sort of knew that this is where they would end up and is aware that she needs to do something to tip the balance. To make him let go. She tugs him down on the scarf a little so he’s sitting on the bed now. As he sits, she comes to rest on her knees in front of him. She pushes his thighs apart ever so slightly and works her hands towards his cock.

“Leona.” He says, trying to chastise and failing. “What do you think you’re… ouch!”

One of her hands had drifted back and pinched a tender piece of skin under his knee before she returned to what she was doing. Her warm breath was already starting to work on him and she simply took him into her hands and guided his newly starting erection to her lips. As if it was going to deter her, he tries in vain to lean back, his arms spread wide on the expanse of the bed behind him, curling the sheets under his fingers.

He wants to watch her. They have never done this before. They had never discussed this before and he half wonders if she thinks this is a new idea on her part or if his previous actions on her gave her this spark. Charlie knows that if he watches her, he’s going to be distracted in a good way by her and would more than likely defeat the purpose of what she was proposing to do. When the tip of cock disappears from view and between her sweet lips he quivers from head to toe.

His body reacts just as her does and now she knows it! She wants to smile and laugh out loud. She wants to dance around him in a circle and point at him. She wants to scream A-ha! I knew that you were a human being! I knew that you were a mere mortal like the rest of us! She doesn’t know why she does it, but one of her hands slinks up his stomach, over his chest and finds his bearded chin and tits it up to the sky in a gesture of encouraging him not to watch to let his mind go.

For once in his life, he takes the hint and her hand trails back down to help with what’s she’s doing. She moves forward slowly, this is a new thing for her and is using her tongue to help pull him as deep as she can manage and her hands to close the distance that she can’t. Which she considers in her mind not to be much, but she is suddenly determined to make it count. She can feel the vein that runs his length and she pulls back, dragging her tongue on that vein. She grazes her teeth on the crown before taking him back in and repeating her task so slowly.

It’s making him crazy. He doesn’t want her to be doing this, to be… on her knees like this for him. He wants this to be all about her and making her happy. Not just about him and on around her twelfth or fourteenth pass, he honestly is unable to keep track now, the thought enters his brain that perhaps this is making her happy. While he feels so close to his edge he doesn’t want surrender in her mouth. Not yet.

It takes every ounce of will in his body to lean forward and he lets his hands cup her face and she gently leads her off his throbbing erection. He can feel her eyes and they’re burning into him, she’s not an idiot, she knew exactly what she wanted to do and is about to tell him so before he speaks. He’s grabbing her arm just below the shoulder and pulling her to her feet. His voice is voice is as heavy and as dark as she’s ever heard it. “Straddle me and for Christ’s sake, don’t let go of me. There will be no bed, no sheets to twist your hands. Me, hold on to me. Hurt me if you must.”

She nods and does as he’s told her and she’s not even ready for him but she complies. Her saliva makes it easier but it was still an invasion and her body was tight, almost impossibly so. Once he’s guided her hips and for all intents and purposes impaled her, one of his hands pulls her head down and she remembers what he said. Her hands claw his back and he’s not soft. His muscles are hard beneath her hands she has to settle for curling one arm under one of his. She’s barely managed to get her grip before he lifts her up and they’re off the bed.

Oh my God is the only thought she has as he stumbles forward and crashes her back against the nearest wall. It stings, yes it hurts but she’s lost in all the strange sensations. Her bare back against the wall, Charlie all taunt and hard underneath her arms and her legs wrapped around him, holding on for dear life. How he’s angled inside of her. Leona is nothing more than surprise and shock and he’s digging into her now. His face is buried in the crook of her neck and he feels hot and sweaty against her skin. His upper body is just pressing her breasts against his chest, the scarf in tangled place between them, not an iota of space to pass between, yet his hips are now forcing them slightly apart.

He starts to thrust with his hips into her and the first few times, she struggles to stay where she’s at and she is clawing at his back as he intended. He’s only considerate for a moment before he just lets himself go on her, thrusting in rapid succession, not giving her a chance to find a rhythm of her own. She’s lost but she’s elated. She feels so good even if this isn’t what she imagined because this is something for him. She’s doing something for him for once and she’s able to close her eyes and tip her head back in the knowledge that this is for him.

It was the mental release she needed and her body finally starts to comply and welcome him even more. The pressure on her chest, her back and finally she’s able to sense the pattern in which he’s working. Then it happens, he literally roars in her ears as his hands dig into her hips with a final thrust. She matches his unguarded noise by pulling herself even tighter and saying in his ears the only appropriate response in her mind. “I love you Charlie. I love you.” 

It could have been moments or hours. It feels like a lifetime before he pulls himself from her and helps to ease her to her feet against the ground. He’s not looking at her now his head is tipped down as he looks her over, trying to see if he hurt her. Charlie is feeling ashamed and she knows it. “Look at me.” She pleads.

He doesn’t respond right away, his hands rubbing her shoulders, down her arms, a familiar safe action to the both of them. 

“Charlie, look at me.”

His hands find themselves at her sides, moving down, resting on her hips.

She doesn’t bother to ask this time, she takes her hands and forces his face up so she can see his eyes. Leona smiles a small smile to him. His eyes are shimmering and she knows exactly why. “Everything is fine Charlie. I’m right here and I’m not scared of you. I love you, even more if that’s possible. Okay?” He nods into her hands and he believes her. He honestly believes her. Charlie honestly believes in that moment that he loves her too. If she can handle him when he’s lost his self-control, she’s his match, he knows it now. He nods and his good sense starts to return.

“Leona,” he says and scoops her up and places her in the bed. He’s about to leave her but her hand catches the scarf still dangling from his neck.

“Stay.” He finds himself now crawling into bed next to her, their limbs now tangled along with that red scarf, caressing each other’s faces and kissing each other lightly and then eventually, a comforting sleep.


End file.
